


Training will be the death of me

by Kongohb



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, No Incest, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, The Hargreeves | Umbrella Academy Need a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kongohb/pseuds/Kongohb
Summary: Klaus’s training is a little unconventional- but dying isn’t so bad if it helps the team.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Grace Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone, Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Reginald Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 8
Kudos: 108





	1. Dug his own grave

**Author's Note:**

> Any future warnings will be here! 
> 
> I’ve had this fic planned for literally a year I was just too scared to write it... so I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Feel free to call me out on typos lmao I don’t have an editor

A rough landing was an understatement. Scratch that, it was the farthest away one could even get from describing the trip the Hargreeves had just taken. 

Klaus was well aware of the apocalypse- it never seemed to leave him or his family alone. So, when they’d successfully stopped the apocalypse a second time without a casualty Klaus figured they’d finally caught their break. Hell, even Ben was hopeful, and normally he was a bit of a downer.

But of course, the Hargreeves family is practically famous for fucking up. It ran in their DNA as one of the only things they all had in common. They’d been almost massacred by the entire commission, destroyed in a fight by Diego’s friend with benefits, and almost murdered by the handler and a random man with white hair and a vendetta. Luckily his vendetta was with the handler.

They parted with Herb and Dottie who gave them a stern warning of “We’re on your side, but don’t change anything else in the timeline.” They’d all been forced to agree to the terms that no matter when they landed, they’d roll with it.

And so, the lot ended up at the academy. Again. 

There Klaus was sprawled out across the ground in all of his glory. He moaned into the dirt, opting to lay still and rest his poor muscles. He didn’t remember feeling nearly this bad the two other times he’d time traveled. Sure he’d had cotton-mouth and jet lag for days but he’d never felt as though he were a piece of playdough that a toddler abused. 

His muscles screamed in agony as he pushed himself up, he ignored the pain of his joints cracking as he did so. It was then that he noticed his location:

The academy courtyard. 

“Oh fuck no.” he whispered in horror, looking across the dreary square of land at his similarly spawled out siblings. His siblings who were, in fact, teenagers again.

“Oh god no!” Instead of his long flowing trench coat and iconic black crop top with pants to match, he was clad in the mind numbingly bland academy uniform. His hands shot to his face. What greeted him was an empty chin, devoid of his signature goatee. He had to be around 13 because his nails were painted a light blue and their father had reluctantly allowed Klaus to do so after a particularly bad mission around that time. Well, that and Five hadn’t seemed to age up further than his already 13 year old body.

While he was busy focusing on the feeling of being a lanky teenage boy he had neglected to notice his siblings start to come around. 

Five came around quite quickly, having already been in his teenage form and not needing to adjust. The boy had gone over to help Vanya, who seemed to be freaking out a bit.

Then, Klaus noticed Ben. Ben, who was alive. Ben who was breathing. Ben who was struggling to breathe. Oh god. Ghosts didn’t need to breathe even when manifested. Ben was going to hyperventilate. He scrambled over to his brother, forgetting his discomfort immediately. 

“Ben, look at me!” he asserted. Ben gasped at Klaus with his eyes wide, one hand clenching the grass and the other his heaving chest. Klaus grabbed Ben’s grass hand and lifted it to his chest. “I’m gonna need you to breathe with me, Casper.” Klaus placed his resurrected brother’s hand over where his lungs were and breathed deeply in. And out. In and out. In and out. Slowly, Ben started to get the hang of it, his wheezes turning into real breaths. 

Once Ben was breathing on his own Klaus smiled wearily “Can’t have you dying again! We only just got here!” Ben laughed airly and lightly smacked Klaus in the ribs. 

Klaus finally dropped himself from his crouching position and allowed himself to sink back into the dirt next to his brother. Ben didn’t object to the comforting presence. 

Their silent bonding didn’t last long, with the rest of the Hargreeves gang scrambling from their respective spots over to the duo. “Ben!” Luther arrived first and practically crushed Ben in his attempt to hug him. The rest all dog piled around Ben, whose big dopey smile and tears of joy spoke enough words to rewrite Vanya’s book about how much he’d missed them.

Klaus himself joined the dogpile, though he stayed to the outskirts. He’d denied them all this privilege and he more than owed them alone time with their previously deceased brother whom he’d hogged. 

Ben giggled out a wet “Hey guys!” and even Five couldn’t contain his smile. Klaus knew he himself was also smiling ear to ear alongside his siblings.

The moment was sadly short lived as Pogo stepped out onto the courtyard steps “You kids had better get inside, You’ll be late to dinner.” 

Now, Klaus was famished. A side effect of time traveling and having a gaping hole of a stomach as a teen. Or maybe it was the munchies, though he didn’t think he was high at the moment. 

Klaus pushed himself back up with a groan and exaggeratedly stretched his limbs “Well, you heard the man! Hopefully mom whipped us up some waffles!” This seemed to be enough to get Pogo to go back inside the mansion, while the rest of his siblings soaked up their limited time with Ben in the dirt. 

Ben, surprisingly, was the first to haul himself up after Klaus. The rest of their siblings reluctantly followed suit and soon there was an arsenal of grimy super-powered teens tracking mud into the mansion. 

As they entered the dining room Reginald sat front and center, as always. The man sent shivers down Klaus’s spin. He scrutinized them each under his relentless gaze. Klaus briefly wanted to thank Diego for throwing the monocle away after his death, the thing amplified Hargreeve’s gaze from 10 to 100.

“Why are you all so dirty?” the man’s eyes had zeroed in on Klaus, who crossed his arms around himself at the squinted eyes. He’d expected to be blamed, though he was still offended. 

“We were getting some extra practice in, Sir.” Reginald’s eyes bore into Luther like a hawk. Luther did nothing to show his discomfort but Klaus noted the shaking of his hands behind his back. 

“Number Four does not need a knight shining armour to save him. You are not his Sir Percival.” Reginald all but spat out, now glaring at Klaus again.

Klaus swallowed his fear and shakily asked “And what exactly did I do?” He dared look Reginald dead on, only seeing Allison and Ben anxiously clenching their fists in his peripheral vision. The man must have decided to spare Klaus, or must have heard Klaus’s stomach rumbling because he addressed them all: “Sit, dinner is already behind schedule.” 

Klaus stiffly made it to his seat beside Ben and Allison, whispering to the former “Do you remember what I did?” Reginald didn’t give Ben the chance to answer. 

“Silence.” he commanded. Klaus complied, half because he didn’t want to make his old man bust a blood vessel and half because he was starving. They’d had yet to discuss how to act here, but he assumed, per their agreement with Herb, that they’d be living as their teenage selves.

Everyone else dug into their meals except for “Number Seven, why aren’t you eating?” Vanya looked at the meal as if it were a brain instead of a delicious turkey their mother had cooked. “You must eat, you petulant child, have you not taken your pills?”

The mood, as low as it already was, somehow dropped lower. Fists were clenched and shoulders were stiffened at the mention of her pills. Vanya was taken aback and Klaus prepared himself to jump in and defend her if necessary. His sister, bless her self-control, regained herself. “I’ve taken them, I’m just not that hungry.” It was a weak save but Reginald seemed to believe it.

The rest of dinner passed silently with no real issues. Klaus could still feel the animosity radiating off of their father and racked his sluggish brain for what had caused his father to antagonize him as he finished his meal. Once released, they rose up the stairs and made a plan to have a family meeting after getting ready for bed. They’d be meeting in Luther’s room as it was one of the more spacious rooms and Reginald often didn’t check his room on the assumption that he was already following rules. 

Maybe Vanya was right, they did tend to turn everything into a discussion. Klaus didn’t ponder long, more occupied by the ghost that was watching him shower. While the ghost didn’t have eyes; it was still deeply unsettling and a solid reminder of why he only took bubble baths.

He exited the bathroom quickly, much to Allison’s delight, and proceeded to dress himself in the academy pajamas. They were ugly, but damn if Reginald hadn’t invested in some comfortable cotton. Klaus practically fell asleep on the spot.

“C’mon! Get- get your ass moving!” He was rudely snapped back to reality by Diego, who had popped his head in the doorway. Diego snickered at his startled yelp and cackled even harder into his hands when Klaus stuck his tongue out at him. 

Apparently he’d spent more time than he’d like to admit basking in the comfort of his pajamas because the rest of his siblings were already in Luther’s room upon Two and Four’s arrival. 

“Took you long enough.” Five muttered without real malice. The joint time travel seemed to have caught up to him because his eye bags dug into his face like graves. The usually uptight boy was slumped against Luther’s bed and looked close to passing out. “Sorry, but you can’t rush perfection.”

That earned a small snort of laughter from Ben but Klaus could hear nothing but the crickets chirping from his other siblings. “Tough crowd tonight I see” Klaus plopped himself next to Ben and Diego, completing the circle they’d formed sitting on the floor. The dim yellow light and overall homey vibe of Luther’s room made it feel like a sleep over. 

“So, first things first: we’re 13 again.” Vanya started them off, huffing a breath up at her bangs. Klaus dramatically swayed into Diego with his hand on his chin “don’t remind me, I’m mourning the loss of my gorgeous goatee!” Diego shoved him off with a sharp “Get of-off, Get off of me!”, though he was drowned out by a “Good riddance!” from Ben.

Numbers Four and Six laughed at each other while Five redirected them back to the topic at hand. “We’re 13, and we’ve got to stay 13- as per our agreement with The Commission.” 

“Is there any chance at all we could go forward? Even just for a little bit?” Allison’s face was determined, but the fear shone clearly through her eyes. “Please, I just want to see Claire again”

Klaus grimaced and he saw his siblings do the same. Even Five looked at her with sympathy, clearly not wanting to break the bad news. It seemed that Five decided on a hopeful white lie. “Maybe later, when The Commission trusts us again.” 

Allison was a master of words, her power required her to be. Klaus could see the grief swallow her as her body sunk in on itself. She knew Five’s words were nothing more than an empty reassurance. Klaus wanted nothing more than to crawl over and hug her but settled for the strong side hug that Luther enveloped her in. She smiled, if a bit defeated, into his shoulder. 

Diego cleared his throat and spoke with brows furrowed in obvious concentration. “What are we supposed to do? Just live under dad’s control again?” Vanya crossed her arms and nodded, adding: “I’m not taking those pills again.”

Five frowned in thought. “No one’s taking any pills, you or Klaus. We’ve got to do this timeline right.” 

Klaus was seething “Excuse m-” “You were sober for 3 years, Klaus.” Ben interrupted. “You can do it again, and now you’ll have more help besides me.” Klaus ignored the nods of encouragement from his siblings and glared into his lap. “Good luck finding my stashes-”

“Number Four!” Their father roared from the door they’d so carelessly left open. Klaus’s heart stopped as the man stormed in and yanked him up by his arm. “You always were dull, Four, but now you admit to having stashed drugs in my manor!” He flinched as Reginald got into his face, spitting at him “What am I to believe this little circle is? Because it looks to me like you’re going to distribute them to your siblings.” 

Klaus blanched, desperate to clear his name of the accusation. “What- no- I’m- I mean we’re not-!” 

“Silence your yapping, boy!” 

His nicely ironed suit barely even ruffled as he slapped Klaus with the free hand not already clenched around Klau’s arm. His siblings flinched in place of himself. Allison, Diego, and Ben even looked as though they were about to attack their father.

Always one step ahead, the man whipped around to face them, causing them to flinch back into their sitting positions. “I’ll have none of your excuses!” He snapped at the numbers. “The rest of you will be reprimanded tomorrow- Number Four,” he somehow tightened his grip on Klaus’s arm more “You will be coming with me.” 

Without another word, he marched out with Klaus in tow. He could barely spare a glance at his distraught siblings as his father led him away. Down the stairs, through a hallway, into the family room, and eventually to the entryway. 

Klaus began to resist as he realized what was happening. “Please no!” he tried to yank his arm free upon the sight of what he had designated ‘the mausoleum car’. 

Reginald forced Klaus into the car and glared at him “You will stay in the mausoleum until you are fully detoxed, and then you will stay in as long as it takes you to learn your lesson.” His face left no room for escape from punishment, but that didn’t mean Klaus was done.

“Please! I’m already sober! I could tell you about any ghost you want, I just saw a ghost with no eyes a while ago! Just please don't-”

“Quit your mewling, boy. I’ll have the academy wiped clean of your drugs by the time you're done. I will no longer tolerate your tarnishing of our reputation.” 

Klaus sat silently, the will to fight his father on his coming fate dissipating. 

The pair arrived at the cemetery and Klaus welcomed the tight grip of his father’s hand if only to ground him. The sight of so many ghosts sent formed a pit of dread in his stomach and he couldn’t help but let a whimper escape. Even after years of being sober, he’d never really gotten used to the ghosts, at least not when they were in large groups. His ‘cult’ travelled around enough to barely ever have any stragglers.

These ghosts were just as aggressive as he’d remembered them. As the boy and his father walked further in, the ghosts let their displeasure be known. In turn, Klaus let his own be known in the form of small flinches. 

They arrived at the dreaded Mausoleum and Klaus could already hear the screaming of the tortured souls trapped inside. 

“Dad please-”

“It’s sir.” The man coolly corrected, opening the door. “Your time starts now.” 

Klaus felt a shove and then and then was suddenly engulfed in darkness.


	2. At deaths door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mausoleum and heaven really aren’t that fun to hang out in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: MENTION OF THROWING UP AND DESCRIPTION OF DEATH
> 
> 1920s slang  
> “You sure are the cat’s meow around here” - “You sure are the shit around here”  
> “Look who’s on the trolley!” - “look who finally got it/understands!”  
> German  
> “Mein Vater” - “my father”

Not to be melodramatic, but Klaus could safely say he was trapped in his own personal hell. He half expected some sort of devil to appear and inform him of his demise.

The ghost around him wept, screamed, pleaded, and just plain babbled. The sounds all morphed together into a horrific, neverending howl. 

The noise alone could have been enough to drive Klaus over the edge, but his power had never spared him sanity before and it sure wasn’t going to now.

The visuals. In the darkness silhouettes illuminated themselves. Ghosts were equipped with their own faint glow so that even in pure darkness Klaus could never truly escape seeing them.

When he was a child, still just Number Four, a dead nanny would act as his nightlight and protect him from angered spirits. Still, even she had become corrupt with an increased anger at Number Seven that he’d never understood. She’d scream and use her glow to keep Number Seven up for days at a time.

The glow illuminated the small room. It was packed full of ghosts, some standing, some on the wall, some twisted in grotesque ways, some trapped in stone that they’d unsuccessfully fazed through. The dead didn't age well. The room was drenched in gallons of endlessly flowing blood. Body parts littered the few unoccupied areas. 

Something no one but their father had ever considered was Klaus’s other senses. His power was effectively an extension of his already existing senses.

He’d only recently discovered that he could touch ghosts, though both taste and smell were never out of the equation.

Taste had only ever applied once in his life when Ben had phased through him and Klaus’s mouth happened to be wide open. 

The smell was atrocious. The rotted scent forced Klaus to empty his stomach of the turkey he’d had only an hour before. He would’ve felt guilty about the fact that he’d wasted his dear mother’s food if he wasn’t already horrified by the fact that he’d thrown it up onto a ghost.

It wasn’t his fault! The cramped room filled chalk full of souls barely left him breathing room, much less room to throw up.

The ghost took one look at him and screeched. The man had half a head and an unhinged jaw. The warped face emitted a similarly warped gargle of a screech. The fact that he didn’t need to breathe proved to be Klaus’s curse because the man didn’t need to stop his screaming for air. 

Klaus shoved his hand on his ears and threw himself against the concrete door. He ignored the protest of his sore limbs and hoped the extreme jet-lag would be enough to knock him out.  
Briefly the boy entertained the thought of his siblings rescuing him. As much as they preached being a support group to each other he’d never really taken them up on their offer. Ben knew about his claustrophobia and the mausoleum but never in their decades together had Klaus disclosed the location or anything specific. None of his other siblings would even come close to knowing. 

Klaus could only pray that Reginald had told Luther during their “tree time”, though Klaus wasn’t one for believing in lost causes. A more plausible hope could be that maybe he’d spilled to Diego while high but he doubted that. Diego, though he hated to admit it, was a softie and would have definitely confronted him once sober.

Rudely, his train of thought was interrupted.

A splatter of ghost blood. On his pajamas. 

His pajamas were practically covered in the blood of the surrounding ghosts that hovered around him. Opening his eyes was a mistake as all he could see was ghosts and blood and nothing else.

He let out a strangled wheeze and shut his eyes once more, trying desperately to forget the faces of the deceased looking upon him as though he were a bunny and they were a starved fox.

The thing about his powers was that the blood didn’t show up to others. Only Klaus could see when the hallways were bloody. Only Klaus could see when the dining room chairs were bloodstained, forcing him to sit on the table. Only Klaus could see the blood on his and everyone else's clothes. This did not make that fact that he was a mosaic of blood any less panic inducing. He didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed sooner.

He curled himself deeper into the wall and hugged himself. His nails dug into his arms in a subconscious way of grounding himself. He could also feel the cold of the night on his bare feet. His father hadn’t given him a chance to get out of his sleep outfit.

The sheer thought of his father sent him spiralling- no matter what timeline they were in they couldn’t seem to shake the bastard. Even dead, the man had bothered Klaus. 

“Klauuuuuuussssss” The half-headed man had somehow discovered his name. He had no idea how they did that.

The barrages of his name led him to shoving his arms harder on his ears.

“Klaus.” 

That sounded oddly normal, if a bit murderous. Klaus regretfully looked up at the woman covered in electrified barbed wire, burns and cuts littering his skin. Her cause of death looked to be a gaping stab wound in her flapper dress.

“You sure are the cat’s meow around here, mister.” she sneered.

The woman clearly held a grudge, though he couldn’t place her. In fact, she looked incredibly out of place in the ghostly prison. Everyone around was feral, and she held most of her poise. Her morbid death suited the room, but her presence did not.

He eyed her warily “Well someone’s observant.” 

“I’ll get right to the point then, Klaus,” She spat his name as if it were the most disgusting thing in the world. “Your eldest brother is quite skilled at his craft.”

Klaus gulped. Five’s craft was mostly murder, and her wounds did fit the bill of other commission ghosts he’d encountered. “Did Five….. Y’know…” he softened his voice “Did he kill you?”

“Look who’s on the trolley!” She towered over his curled body, dripping more blood onto his ruined pajamas. He’d have to throw them out later.

“I may not be able to kill your brother, but,” her eyes shone in the same crazed way Ben’s had shone upon finding out Klaus could be possessed. “I can make you kill yourself.”

Klaus’s breath hitched. He let out an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp as she crouched to his level. He scrambled away from her. His heart beat so hard that he was heaving to breathe. His chest was heavy with panic.

In horror he noticed a blue tint to the concrete around him. Blue pulses from his feet to the woman’s brought the deceased to life. A wicked grin split her face “Oh, don’t worry! I’ll only be a minute!”

The woman pounced on him, suddenly just as feral as the other ghosts all toppling over themselves to be a part of the action. 

His eyes rolled into his head as she shoved her way into his body. 

The woman was nothing if efficient, her first act as host being slamming his head on the concrete. The two screeched in unison but she continued. She slammed his head a second at him and lost control for a second before regaining her control. 

“No! Get out!” He feebly attempted to rip her out of his body but both were rejected by the third smash.

He blinked in the sight of monochrome colors.

In a moment of bitterness he recalled how ironic his jab at Ben was. “Can’t have you dying again! We only just got here!” He really should open a psychic shop, his hero name had already been ‘The Seance’ and he was more than willing to scam the poor fools that showed up.

Instead of a nice fall trail with a house in the distance, Klaus’s location had changed since his last visit. Now, as if God was mocking him, he was at his old commune in the patch of dirt Ben had frolocked around in. 

And there she was. The little girl Klaus had come to assume was God. He kicked the dirt at her white sundress as she pulled her bike up beside him, but her dress remained the same. Perfect.

“You again,” she groaned “I told you that you weren’t wanted here.”

Klaus huffed and pushed his hands through his hair, distantly noticing that he was his correct age of 34 again. Five would probably be happy about that when he died, if he didn’t decide on haunting anyone. “I didn’t exactly come here by choice.”

The girl pursed her lips “Fine. Then try not to come here again.” 

The former cult leader chuckled “Mein vater monitors us. I assume he’s having a field day right now!” Noticing her eyes that begged for explanation he continued; “If you send me back out, he’ll keep on sending me in. He’s like that.”

Klaus waved jazz hands and plastered on his best smile. “It’s for science!”

God did not find it funny. Oh well. 

“I have to send you back, regardless of if either of us want it. You don’t belong here.” She gently lifted her hand and placed it on his stomach, above the tattoo he’d gotten to remember Dave by.

She pushed him and suddenly he was hit with the worst case of vertigo known to man. He shut his eyes against the feeling.

He was back on the ground of the mausoleum. 

His blood coated everything around, his comfortable pajamas were going to have to be permanently retired when he got home. He wondered if the amount of pain he was in was how the man with half a head had felt.

“Hnnnng” He choked out some blood, his resurrection having apparently only healed the worst of it and leaving him with a migraine and mild head trauma. He squinted his eyes open.

After the pins and needles died away, Reginald and his mother swam into view.

“Darling, let me help you sit up.” His lovely mother gently crouched down and pulled him up in a sitting position. He laid his head on her shoulder. It wasn’t a pillow but he was about to pass out if he didn’t.

“You were dead for ten minutes, Number Four. Explain.” 

One thought ran through his head. If Reginald found out about his possession he’d be forced to train both possession and resurrecting. He wasn’t about to kill two birds with one stone any time soon.

He settled for “I got a bit overwhelmed, needed to clear the mind, if ya catch my drift.”

Reginald narrowed his gaze and he felt his mother’s hand rub his back. “I think we’ve discovered an excellent new power,” Klaus’s head shot up. It wasn’t often the word excellent was associated with him. “This being said: we will need to train it.”

Expected. Klaus was fine with that. 

“Grace, help him get to the car. I assume he’s learned his lesson.” The man turned on his heel and left, as though his adoptive son wasn’t gushing blood out of his head.

He pressed his face into his mother’s shoulder “I’m sorry you had to see this, mom.” The robot smiled at him “I came to give emergency aid to you, dear. Although I don’t like seeing you injured, it was nice to leave the house.”

Klaus didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. He let his mother carry him out like a ragdoll, most definitely disappointing Reginald in the process. 

She placed him in the passenger seat before getting into the back. Something didn’t sit quite right with that fact that he got the front seat and she didn’t, but he was too drained to argue.

Reginald fixed him with a glare “We will not speak of this until we’ve tested it further.” He waited for Klau’s nod “Your siblings’ punishment was clearing the house of your drugs. Don’t bring marajuana into the academy again.”

Klaus finally was hit with the memory of Reginald finding his weed stash in a hollowed out book. Reginald had assumed he’d been dealing because of the amount that he’d had. In the original timeline Klaus had stopped stashing weed and simply moved onto stronger drugs.

He couldn’t do that this time. “It won’t happen again.” he promised.

Reginald hummed in response and, much like dinner, the drive proceeded in silence. Klaus tried his best to not bleed on the seats or pass out.

They pulled into the academy driveway. Reginald looked at Klaus once more. “Go clean up. You’ll be excused from breakfast and morning warm-ups. Grace will deliver you a new set of clothes.”

And with that Klaus exited the car. He managed to only stumble into two things on his quest to the stairs. His grip turned to iron on the railing. To say he was white-knuckling it would have been too kind. He wasn’t some young offender doing community service. He sure as hell wasn’t going to fall and potentially be impaled.

He made it to the top and blacked out.

Surprisingly, he didn’t hit the ground, but was in the arms of Diego.

“You sure know how to save a damsel in distress!” his joke came out slurred and as usual he was the only one to laugh. 

The rest of his siblings were circled around the pair, all of their faces lined with concern. “What the fuck happened, Klaus?” Five’s eyes wandered his head wound, scratches, and bloodied pajamas. 

“I won’t be doing drugs anymore.” Klaus replied simply, pushing himself from Diego's grip. 

“I’m really dirty and gross, so if you all could leave me to bathe in peace that’d be nice,” He saw Ben’s face of confrontation and booked it to the bathroom “Update me on the rest of the important bits I missed tomorrow!” He cut off any response of theirs by ducking into the bathroom.


End file.
